


To Each His Own

by plumtrees



Series: Four's a Party [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Car Sex, Clubbing, Crossdressing, Dancing, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Shower Sex, Spanking, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 07:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5366702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumtrees/pseuds/plumtrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Move over, Issei.” Hanamaki grunts as he squeezes himself between them, pulling Iwaizumi onto him once he’s settled. Iwaizumi worms away from the blood-stained front of his sweater. “Besides, shower sex? Can’t you be a <em>little</em> more creative?”</p>
  <p>Iwaizumi watches Oikawa eye the armchair intently, like he can somehow engineer a way to make a two-seater successfully fit four above average-sized twenty-year-olds. Iwaizumi wishes he’d fail. It’s already uncomfortable enough as it is, with him on Hanamaki’s lap and Hanamaki half on Matsukawa’s.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	To Each His Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [monolade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monolade/gifts).



> For [gondowan](http://gondowan.tumblr.com). Happy (belated) birthday! Yup, I went there. I gifted you 10k+ words of porn on your birthday. ENJOY. (apologies for the lateness tho ;n;)
> 
> I think the tags are already enough warning, so if you’ve read them and you’re still here… *hands you a ticket to hell* YOU’RE IN FOR A BUMPY RIDE, FOLKS.

_Let’s take a shower together, Hajime. It’ll save water, Hajime. It’s no problem, right Hajime? Yeah, sure, Issei. It’s all good. Fuckin’_ peachy.

Matsukawa sighed through his nose as the water assaulted his back. From behind him, Iwaizumi hummed several notes from a song Matsukawa couldn’t catch. Regardless, blood rushed south at the reminder that he was _sharing a shower stall with Iwaizumi Hajime_.

Matsukawa stole a glance for the sixth time in half as many minutes and bit his lip at the sight of bronzed skin shining with water, eyes following the drops as they sluiced along muscles, leaving glistening trails in their wake.

 _Is it even fucking possible to be jealous of water?_ Matsukawa clicked his tongue in frustration. Iwaizumi turned his head at the sound, blinking water out of his eyes as those green orbs rolled up to meet his.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Matsukawa quickly replied, angling his body so that Iwaizumi couldn’t get a glimpse of his front.

Iwaizumi frowned and turned so that his entire body faced Matsukawa, inciting a moment of wooziness when Matsukawa’s blood couldn’t decide if it would fill out his face or his dick.

“You’re all red, Matsukawa.” Iwaizumi commented. “Is the water too hot?”

 _No, but_ you _are._ his treacherous brain thought. He bit his tongue. _No, Issei. Bad Issei._

He heard the squeak of the lever as Iwaizumi adjusted the temperature. The water cooled down but it did nothing for his raging hard on. “Is this better?” Iwaizumi asked, and his cock twitched at the echo of his voice around the tiny cubicle.

“Matsukawa, you okay?” Iwaizumi prompted at his lack of response.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” he muttered, horribly unconvincing. He could feel Iwaizumi’s stare boring holes into his back. Shrinking away from him was a vain effort in the limited space they had, so he settled for just ignoring Iwaizumi completely, hoping he’d get the message and just drop it.

What possessed Matsukawa to think that that would actually _work_ , he couldn’t remember, but when a hand reached over and curled around his bicep, his control snapped like a rubber band.

He slammed both hands against the wall, trapping Iwaizumi’s head between them. He backed up in shock, his head knocking back on the tile with a dull _thunk_.

Matsukawa looked down at Iwaizumi. _Small_ would be the last adjective he’d use to describe Iwaizumi, _vulnerable_ a close second, but here he was now, naked and cornered, dripping wet, the very personification of those words. For a while, there was nothing but the sound of water splashing around them. Matsukawa chewed his lip anxiously, worried that he’d overstepped a line, but Iwaizumi was looking up at him, more curious than anything, and Matsukawa mentally let out a sigh of relief. Iwaizumi continued to stare, the same eyes that softened in worry now crystallizing with a calm interest.

“You’re hard.”

Matsukawa swallowed. “Thanks for noticing.”

“Kinda hard not to,” he said, eerily casual, “when it’s pressed up against my stomach.”

“Sorry.”

He wished he could muster up the effort to sound more sincere about it, but he really wasn’t sorry; not when Iwaizumi was clearly reciprocating, when every single cue from his body just _dared_ him to do his worst. He leaned back on the wall more comfortably, intentionally bumping his own erection against Matsukawa’s thigh.

“You need help with that?” Matsukawa murmured, voice dipping an octave. Iwaizumi’s lips curled into an alluring smile. He dimly noticed Iwaizumi’s hand reach behind him to turn off the water. Well, at least he wasn’t the only one who knew they weren’t gonna get much cleaning done for a while.

Matsukawa leaned in, lips slotting perfectly with a pair that was softer than it looked. His hands were eager but gentle as they explored the toned muscles along his arms, the breadth of his shoulders. Despite being much taller, Matsukawa could feel the hidden strength in that body. He knew that Iwaizumi was more than capable of pushing him away, of pinning _him_ onto the nearest wall, but laid there docile and malleable beneath his lips and hands, and his chest swelled with warmth.

He lowered to his knees, tracing a path down Iwaizumi’s body with his mouth. An act of appreciation, a show of trust equal in amount as Iwaizumi had graced him with, their eyes meeting as he kissed the base of Iwaizumi’s engorged cock.

“Say my name.” he pleaded, mouthing the words along the underside of his dick. Iwaizumi shivered, eyes rolling shut.

“Matsu…Issei,” he rectified, and Matsukawa rewarded him by taking his head into his mouth and sucking lightly. It earned him a moan, high and keening. He glided his hands along his thighs, slippery and cool from the water.

He hooked one leg over his shoulder and Iwaizumi tensed, shifting his center of gravity so that he didn’t burden Matsukawa with all of his weight. Matsukawa frowned slightly. His favorite success indicator was when he had his partner completely boneless, thighs trembling against the sides of his head, unable to stand.

He’d just have to work for it then.

He took him deeper, mindful of his gag reflex, before he moaned around the shape of Iwaizumi on his tongue, causing him to shiver and scrabble against the wall, fingers skidding uselessly along smooth tiles.

“Issei, oh fuck wait—”

Matsukawa ignored him, his tongue massaging the underside. One hand reached up to swipe a thumb around his balls, before closing in to fist around the part he couldn’t fit into his mouth. He sucked as he backed up and Iwaizumi stabbed his heel into his back, hands reaching down to tug urgently at his hair.

“ _Fuck_! Issei, stop!”

Matsukawa broke off quickly, watching Iwaizumi stumble to the floor, chest heaving and eyes glazed over.

“Did I do something wrong?” he chanced, searching for any signs of distress.

“No.” Iwaizumi gasped. “No, you were good. _Too_ good. I was about to come just then.”

Matsukawa inwardly sighed with relief. “That’s kind of what I was going for, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi shook his head, getting up on shaky legs. “I want to come with you fucking me.”

Matsukawa watched him, face going slack in shock as Iwaizumi unlocked the stall and stepped out.

“It’s not fair if I’m the only one who gets off, right?” he said as he padded over to where they’d left their bags. He knelt over them, rummaging through his things and Matsukawa was left to amuse himself by watching the light bounce off the sheen on Iwaizumi’s back.

When he straightened, Matsukawa realized what he was up to when he saw the bottle in his hand.

“Stay there.” Iwaizumi commanded sharply. Matsukawa didn’t even realize he’d made an attempt to stand.

Iwaizumi got up on the counter and upended the bottle over two fingers, swirling the liquid around to warm it up. He held Matsukawa’s gaze as he slid the glistening hand down his body before finally breaching himself with one finger, lips parting in a soft exhale.

Matsukawa’s mouth went dry as Iwaizumi’s eyelashes fluttered, struggling to stay open as he added another, scissoring his fingers to stretch himself wider, knuckles catching on his rim. He watched Iwaizumi curl his fingers up, groaning as he hit his prostate, squirming shamelessly on the counter as he fingered himself with Matsukawa watching.

When he finally loosened himself enough to add a third finger, Matsukawa stood, his burning gaze following the trail of spare lubricant dripping out of Iwaizumi’s hole.

“Get down.” Matsukawa ordered, voice inexplicably hoarse. “Hands on the counter, Hajime.”

He obeyed eagerly, fingers slipping out of himself and standing on unsteady legs, turning to offer himself to Matsukawa. He grabbed his hips to steady him as he pressed them flush against each other, his length grinding into the cleft of Iwaizumi’s ass. Hastily, he snatched the lube from the counter, nimble fingers working to get himself slicked up and ready in the shortest possible amount of time.

“Hold yourself open for me.” he instructed, and Iwaizumi’s shaking hands reached back to pull his asscheeks apart, revealing his twitching hole. He aligned himself and pushed in, his vision fragmenting as slick heat sheathed the head of his cock. He looked down, watching as Iwaizumi’s hole sucked him in.

“Harder.” Iwaizumi hissed, the wrecked tremor in his voice spiking his arousal. “You know I can take it.”

Matsukawa snapped his hips forward the rest of the way, sinking a vicious bite into the side of his neck as he began to thrust, driving into Iwaizumi and rupturing blood vessels beneath his teeth, marking him inside and out.

“That all you got?” Iwaizumi ground out, even as he moaned and gasped with every inward thrust.

Matsukawa growled and grabbed Iwaizumi by the hair, tugging his head back until his skin stretched tight around the cords of his neck, blue veins pulsing beneath.

“I love the fact that your pride won’t let you resort to begging, Hajime.” he snarled against his ear. “It makes reducing you to a desperate, writhing mess all the more satisfying.”

Iwaizumi bared his teeth, but whatever he prepared to say was reduced to a pained hiss as Matsukawa thrust hard enough to practically lift his heels from the floor.

“I love sucking you off, love fucking you, watching you fall apart like this. Would you look at yourself, Hajime? Look how hungry you are for my cock.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes opened, locking on their reflections in the mirror. Matsukawa had eased up on his grip but his brows still furrowed in pain. Matsukawa felt heat burn low in his belly, sweat condensing along his body as arousal pounded through him at the expression on Iwaizumi’s face.

He hooked a hand beneath Iwaizumi’s knee, lifting one of his legs on the counter and continuing to thrust, achieving a faster tempo with the new angle. One hand weighted his shoulder down to keep him aligned, pinning him to the cracked tiles like a butterfly in a spiderweb. Iwaizumi howled with every sharp smack of Matsukawa’s hips against his ass.

“Ready to beg, Hajime?”

Iwaizumi let out a high whine as he shook his head, eyes screwing shut. Matsukawa pulled out and smacked his abused ass, prompting another desperate moan.

“If you want something, you ask for it, Hajime. Nicely.” he punctuated that with a sharper slap, not missing the way Iwaizumi ground against the counter. “Boys who don’t know their manners don’t deserve to come.”

Iwaizumi glared at him through the mirror, gaze burning with unbridled lust and defiance, eyebrows angled sharply and pupils blown wide. Matsukawa would never get over how that mix of emotions just looked so _good_ on Iwaizumi.

“Please let me come.” he hissed, face sour. Matsukawa grinned.

_Good enough._

Matsukawa grabbed his jaw and pulled him up to kiss him, eyes open, watching their reflections in the mirror; Iwaizumi with his eyes shut tight, reaching back to curl fingers around Matsukawa’s neck, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth as their tongues danced between them.

He continued to thrust, guiding Iwaizumi’s hand down to take care of his neglected erection. The smack of their skin colliding filled his head with images of Iwaizumi bent over, ass in the air, red and marked with his handprints.

The whole thing ended not soon after that, Matsukawa’s rhythm hitching as he pushed in one last time, moaning into his ear and spilling inside him, Iwaizumi following after a few more tugs of his own hand.

He allowed himself a few seconds to regain his bearings, waiting for the world to realign and unblur, drawing back to his full height at Iwaizumi’s displeased mumbles about his weight. Carefully, he eased out of him, brushing his thumbs along the bruises he’d left behind while Iwaizumi remained crumpled over the counter.

“The whole point of taking a shower was so that we could _clean up_ , Issei.” he gasped, voice trembling.

“I’ll wash your back to make it up to you.” Matsukawa said absently as he knelt, level with Iwaizumi’s ass. He thumbed his hole, pink and soft and dripping with Matsukawa’s come. He smiled wide, a hungry wolf’s grin, as he admired the view for a moment before his tongue lolled out and he leaned in for a taste—

-

“Stop!” Iwaizumi screeches, covering his ears. Matsukawa raises an eyebrow, taking a short sip of his beer.

“Not into rimming, I see.” he shrugs carelessly, popping the cigarette back in his mouth while Hanamaki and Oikawa fight over the tissue box in the background, blood seeping from behind the hands covering their noses. “We’ll get you around eventually.”

“I am never sharing showers with you again.”

“It’s just a fantasy, Hajime. Calm down.” Matsukawa quips, waving a hand to clear the cigarette smoke he just exhaled. Iwaizumi smothers a yelp as he’s pulled onto Matsukawa’s chest, the smell of beer and cigarettes and Matsukawa’s cologne mixing into something not entirely unpleasant. Still, appearances have to be kept, and Iwaizumi makes a show of struggling in his hold.

“Let go, asshole, you smell awful.”

“No, I smell like Mevius and you _love_ it.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. He had a feeling that round of Truth or Dare would be used against him someday, just didn’t expect it to be this soon. Matsukawa’s tongue darts out and laves at his jugular, causing his breath to catch, hands squeezing around his can of lukewarm beer.

He distracts himself by trying to remember exactly how they went from _what’s the best brand of milk bread?_ to this topic. He figures it might be Oikawa’s fault. It always is. He jots down a mental note to strangle him once this is all over.

Matsukawa continues to abuse his neck and the alcohol has loosened his tongue enough for a soft moan to slip out. He bites his lip a little too late, and Matsukawa retreats with a victorious laugh that gets cut off once he realizes his cigarette has burned itself out in the tray.

“Move over, Issei.” Hanamaki grunts as he squeezes himself between them, pulling Iwaizumi onto him once he’s settled. Iwaizumi worms away from the blood-stained front of his sweater. “Besides, shower sex? Can’t you be a _little_ more creative?”

Iwaizumi watches Oikawa eye the armchair intently, like he could somehow engineer a way to make a two-seater successfully fit four above-average sized twenty-year-olds. Iwaizumi wishes he’d fail. It’s already uncomfortable enough as it is, with him on Hanamaki’s lap and Hanamaki half on Matsukawa’s.

Matsukawa raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Hanamaki. “Yeah? Think you can do better?”

Oikawa finally settles for sitting on the arm of the chair, draping his upper body across the backrest. Hanamaki smiles, just a sliver of teeth, and Iwaizumi wiggles a safe distance from Hanamaki’s crotch.

-

The music echoed across the room, thrumming across Hanamaki’s chest and awakening ripples in his long-abandoned drink. His eyes, along with many others’, were magnetized to a dancer in the middle of the floor—an agile little thing with spiky hair and tanned skin—who smoothly switched between sharp and brisk movements to slow twirls of his hips. He danced free and open, utilizing the space to the fullest. Other dancers gave him a wide berth, intrigued eyes lingering to admire but not nearly bold enough to declare themselves his partner.

Hanamaki wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or a trick of the light, but as he slid his eyes across that handsome face for the hundredth time that night, he caught a glimpse of dark eyes meeting his gaze. The edges crinkled as he smiled, the shadow of his dimples more pronounced under the neon lights. Every flick of his hips was a challenge, the subtle curve of his lips an invitation.

Hanamaki stared him down just a bit more blatantly now, just to make sure it wasn’t just wishful thinking. The boy rolled his eyes and jerked his head, as if to say _get over here_.

He downed his drink for luck, or just so the alcohol could numb the pain in case he was just being set up for something embarrassing. He took a deep breath and stood, making his way through the crowd.

In the span of a few seconds, the meters of distance between them dwindled to mere inches. Hanamaki could feel the heat of his body in the air between them. He smiled up at him and Hanamaki’s hands hovered above the other man’s gyrating hips, afraid to touch, but the other had no such reservations, fingers hooking at his nape and jerking him forward.

He was even more handsome up close. Hanamaki could see the deep greens of his eyes, a jaw that looked like it could shatter diamonds. He was still dancing, albeit a little tamer now. Hanamaki tried his best to keep up, mirroring each little sway of his hips to keep their bodies intimately close.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he asked, once he finally got the whole talking-in-the-presence-of-a-god thing figured out. The guy’s eyes widened a fraction, like he was genuinely surprised by the fact that he could talk.

“I was getting bored. You seemed interesting.”

“Interesting.” Hanamaki drawled, like he’s testing a foreign word on his tongue. “Never heard that one before.”

The brunette chuckled. Hanamaki silently cheered himself on, the confidence of making the stranger laugh fueling him into pushing his luck a little harder. His top was loose enough that Hanamaki’s fingers could get under it without even meaning to. He slipped his hands higher, feeling along the bumps of a well-toned stomach and hipbones jutting from above the hem of tight-as-fuck jeans. The stranger smiled and pulled him closer, grinding his hips against his. Hanamaki was pleased to find the beginnings of an erection.

“Should we at least introduce ourselves before we cross the inappropriate touching stage?”

He rolled his eyes and Hanamaki watched them reflect the lights of the club, bright colors being sucked in by two deep pools of green. “You started it.” he snapped, sounding more irritated than he looked.

Hanamaki shrugged. “Can’t blame me for at least wanting to know whose name I’m gonna be screaming tonight.”

The other man’s face broke into a grin. “I wasn’t expecting to catch myself a smooth-talker.” He lifted a finger and traced Hanamaki’s lips. “Though aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, implying that I’d sleep with you?”

Hanamaki smirked and sucked that finger into his mouth, licking along callouses. The brunette’s eyes glistened, lids lowering as he pulled his finger out and smeared the wet tip across Hanamaki’s lower lip.

“Maybe it’s just me, but I think it’s safe to say that I’m on the right track, considering you haven’t punched my face in yet.”

His laughter rang loud, rich like the sweetest honey. “Alright smartass, you got me.”

“Cool.” he whispered, struggling to smother the excitement welling up his chest. “Wanna take this somewhere more private?”

Mischievous eyes flitted up to meet his before stepping back, pulling Hanamaki by the hand. “Come on. My place is close.”

Hanamaki followed suit. The sooner he could get that body back on him, the better.

The walk to his apartment was less than eventful, highlighted only by kisses sneaked in between snippets of shallow conversation. Hanamaki’s stomach flipped in anticipation as Hot Stuff dug a keyring from his pocket and led him up a flight of stairs.

Hanamaki didn’t keep track of how many doors they passed, too busy concentrating on how those hips swayed when the stranger walked. They stopped in front of a door adorned by a number 4, and Hanamaki distracted himself by watching the light shine off the metal as the brunette unlocked his apartment and tugged in him inside.

Hanamaki didn’t even have time to murmur _excuse me for the intrusion_ or slip off his shoes. As soon as the door slammed shut behind him, Hanamaki was suddenly pushed to the carpeted floor of the living room, the other man straddling his hips.

“You got a ‘no fucking in the bedroom’ policy?” Hanamaki gasped as he sat back on his erection.

“Too far.”

Whatever smart reply Hanamaki had at the ready was promptly swallowed by the kiss he was forced into. Regardless, he smoothly reciprocated the frantic slide of his tongue, nipping at chapped lips and fingertips gouging into the small of his back, pulling him closer.

He flipped them over, pinning the other man’s wrists to the floor. Hanamaki thought he heard a _that’s more like it_ but he wasn’t entirely sure, too busy sucking a bruise into that evenly tanned skin.

He undressed him with as much finesse as a five year old opening Christmas presents. To be fair, it wasn’t like the brunette was any less excited about it either. Hanamaki winced when he heard stitches pop. Ah well, a fair price for being able to screw this living masterpiece, he guessed.

He took his time peeling those amazing jeans off of him though, watching the fabric slide right off like a second skin. His eyes raked up his legs before settling on the prize, the silhouette of a considerable girth straining against black boxers, a wet spot growing just at the tip. He reached out and cupped it, watching in rapt fascination as he bucked into the touch.

“Got lube?”

“Side table, second drawer.” he said, voice at a lower register than earlier. Hanamaki took that as a good sign.

He pulled the said drawer open, eyes widening slightly at the clearly-labeled bottle laid above a pile of papers. “You keep this right here?”

He smirked, pausing in the act of removing his boxers, and there went Hanamaki’s assumption that it wasn’t possible for him to look even more tempting than he already was. “Only when I’m expecting company.”

Hanamaki tried to keep it together as he pulled a condom from his wallet, shucking his pants and underwear in the process. He knelt back down, only to frown at the abrasive texture of the carpet under his knees.

“What do you say to wall sex?” he asked. Not that a little threat of rug burn would keep him from taking this man here and now, but he’d really not rather have that haunting him in the morning.

Hot Stuff’s fingers patted the area beneath him, as if just realizing how uncomfortable it felt, and shrugged. “If you can carry me.”

He tore the foil packet with his teeth and rolled the condom on, spitting out the empty square into some darkened corner of the room. He grabbed a leg to hook over his shoulder, making sure to flex his biceps as he did so. Green eyes roamed appreciatively up the bulge of his muscles.

“Nice guns.” he said, gasping softly when Hanamaki’s fingers finally touched his entrance, smearing lube around the rim.

“Yours aren’t so bad either.” Hanamaki shot back, watching those muscles tense as Hanamaki finally entered him with a finger.

Hanamaki carefully slipped in all the way with the help of more lube, experimentally curling the digit inside him. The stranger gave a nod before another finger joined the first. Hanamaki used his other hand to pump his flagging erection, knowing how uncomfortable the first few moments of prep could be. He angled his fingers upwards, concentrating on finding _that_ spot, rubbing firmly. Now, where the hell was it agai—

Without warning, the brunette arched off the carpet with a shockingly loud cry.

_Oh._

Hanamaki smirked at the other’s expression, thoroughly enjoying how he looked like he just had the air knocked out of him. He spread his fingers farther apart and curled inwards, teasing his prostate one more time before pulling out and flexing his arms in preparation.

“Hang on.” was all the warning Hanamaki gave before he scooped him up and pressed him against the wall, lifting him to just the perfect height. The man clung to his neck, and wrapped legs tight around his waist. His eyes were wide, clearly unused to being manhandled. Hanamaki used the moment to test his weight in his arms, bouncing him lightly then grinning when he was confident enough that he could do this without embarrassing himself.

The brunette indulged him with an impressed smile. He wriggled, not entirely displeased with the position but impatient to get a move on, and Hanamaki was only more than glad to comply. He parted his cheeks, exposing his hole and teasing the tip of his erection along the prepared entrance. Hot Stuff fidgeted in his hold, whining and clenching a fist in his hair.

“Fucking fuck me already, you a— _ah_!”

He jerked his head back, breath stuttering as Hanamaki finally pushed up and into him. Hanamaki bit his lip to keep himself from coming right there because damn, he was _tight_. His partner moaned and shuddered, fingers tightening as Hanamaki finally thrust all the way in, the impact inching him farther up the wall.

He gave him a moment to adjust, lips roaming, dotting soothing kisses along the line of his jaw. He was shaking in his hold, clinging openly, trusting Hanamaki to keep him from falling. He nudged his hips forward, testing the waters, and smiled when the beauty arched his back, the little control he just managed to regain crumbling to pieces.

Hanamaki steadily increased the pace, his vision dissolving into motion blurs of that beautiful face contorting in varying degrees of pleasure. His heels dug into the base of Hanamaki’s spine, fingers scoring the skin of his back with every perfect thrust, every circular grind when Hanamaki plunged balls-deep inside him.

“That’s right,” he groaned, muscled thighs twitching around Hanamaki’s waist. “Fuck me like you mean it, yeah, oh _fuck_ just like that.”

Hanamaki clenched his hands in the ample curve of that ass, bouncing the other in his arms as he thrust up a few more times. He mentally groaned in disappointment as he felt the burn in his muscles, knowing that he was approaching his limits. His only consolation was that the brunette seemed just as close as he was.

Suddenly, he took himself in his hand, knuckles grazing Hanamaki’s abdomen, and all it took was a few jerks and he was squeezing hard around him. Hanamaki was nearly knocked out by the suddenness of his own orgasm.

When he finally got most of himself together, the adrenaline was just beginning to wear off, his arms and legs trembling in warning. Quickly, he lowered the both to the floor to avoid the risk of dropping the brunette, untangling heavy limbs and gently positioning him to sit leaning on the wall.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of hasty inhales and the echoes of blood and heartbeats, then,

“So uh…about your name…”

He cackled, huffs of laughter speckling his heaving gasps. He turned to Hanamaki with half-lidded eyes, the flush fading on his cheeks to be replaced with a satisfied glow. “Iwaizumi Hajime. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” Hanamaki rolled the syllables around on his tongue, savoring his prize. “Hanamaki Takahiro. Pleasure’s all mine.”

“Not too sure about _that_.” Iwaizumi’s lids lowered slightly as he leaned over and hooked his hands behind his nape, pulling until their lips were tantalizingly close. “Hope you have enough condoms to last you the night.”

-

“Fucking the hot stranger in the club. Nice.” Matsukawa says. “Classic. Though let’s be honest here, Taka, you’re about as smooth as a cactus.”

“Fuck off, Issei.” Hanamaki hisses. “But thanks anyway. I’ve been having dreams about Iwaizumi’s dance moves since we went clubbing that one time.”

Iwaizumi snorts, cheeks burning red. He crosses his arms and looks away.

“You _wish_ you could carry me long enough for wall sex. You can’t even beat me at arm wrestling.”

A chorus of _ooooooooh SHIT_ erupts from Oikawa and Matsukawa, complete with Matsukawa banging a fist on the side table. Hanamaki cups his jaw in one hand and forces Iwaizumi to face him, a challenging glint in his eye.

“Bet you a thousand yen I could fuck you against that wall.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes dart to the aforementioned space. He remembers being blown by Oikawa there once, fingers scraping across the wallpaper, stabbing a heel into the dip of his spine, the prickle in his skin when he opens his eyes to see Hanamaki and Matsukawa standing _right there_ —

“As much as I’d love to see that,” Oikawa interrupts, to Iwaizumi’s irrational annoyance, “I believe it’s my turn?”

“This oughta be good.” Matsukawa stage-whispers. Hanamaki cackles beside him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Oikawa whines indignantly.

“Nothing” Matsukawa sings, fluttering his eyes at Oikawa and contorting to kiss him. Oikawa’s pout softens only by a fraction, but it morphs into a crafty grin when they all finally give him their undivided attention.

-

Oikawa breathed in the cool mountain air, letting it whip his hair to and fro as he stepped out of the car and towards the edge of the cliff, where Iwaizumi was already leaning against the railing, eyes on the sunset.

“Still think this is a bad idea, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa teased, mimicking his boyfriend’s pose as he sidled up next to him, their elbows brushing lightly.

“I’ll admit, you _do_ have your moments.” Iwaizumi answered, without looking away from the view. His eyes shone with the waning sunlight, the reds and oranges of the sky painting a beautiful shade on his skin.

He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but the next thing he knew, he was standing behind Iwaizumi, interlacing their fingers as he pressed up against him, kissing the top of his head.

“What are you doing?”

“What?” Oikawa asked, feigning innocence. Iwaizumi stood on the balls of his feet, knocking his head on Oikawa’s nose.

Fortunately, that also had the unintended effect of grinding his lovely ass against Oikawa’s crotch.

Oikawa laughed and backed away slightly; trying to hide the proof of his growing arousal lest Iwaizumi throw him off the edge. “Well, we’re watching the sunset from the cliffside, and you just complimented me. I’m just going with the mood, Iwa-chan.”

“There was a mood? I didn’t notice.”

“Sure you didn’t.” he hummed, leaning in to kiss Iwaizumi’s nape, just below his hairline. He felt the shiver that awakened in Iwaizumi’s body at the act and smirks. Turns out he might not be the only horny one here after all.

“Tooru, we’re in public.”

“Youth is the time for adventure, I heard.”

“We’re twenty years old.”

“Still young! Just because you want to act like you’re fifty, Iwa-chan—”

Iwaizumi roared, aiming a punch at his head. Oikawa dodged with a shriek and ran for the car. He had retracted the roof on their way here and jumped into the backseat easily, Iwaizumi pouncing in after him. Oikawa feinted for the ticklish spot on Iwaizumi’s armpits to retaliate, delighting in the squeak he let out as he retreated long enough to tuck his arms in. Oikawa quickly wrapped his arms and legs around Iwaizumi, effectively trapping his limbs. Iwaizumi yelled in protest but didn’t struggle, joining in on Oikawa’s contagious laughter.

He looked down at Iwaizumi after they’ve settled down to heavy breathing, long after the sun had gone down.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Iwaizumi said, a small smile playing at his lips. “Let me up?”

Oikawa wrapped his arms tighter around him, laying his head back to look at the sky. “Don’t wanna.”

“Tooru, I swear to God…”

“Turn over, Iwa-chan.”

“What?”

He patted Iwaizumi’s hip without taking his eyes off of the view above them. Iwaizumi shuffled in his arms and he felt more than heard the gasp he let out at the sight. The sky had lit up with millions of stars, nebulous purples and grays streaked across the deep blue. Oikawa had only ever seen this once before, when he and Iwaizumi were children. They sat side-by-side then, with his hand covering Iwaizumi’s. He reached for it now, smiling when he caught the hand in his, still smaller than his own even after all these years.

“You don’t get to see this many stars in the city.”

“It’s too bright down there.” Iwaizumi whispered, like there was something fragile in the atmosphere that he didn’t want to disturb. Oikawa hummed in agreement, angling his head to nuzzle Iwaizumi’s hair.

“You know what would make this moment _really_ perfect?”

“If you say sex, I will kill you.”

“Well I was gonna say _an orgasm_ so…”

Oikawa yelped in protest when Iwaizumi reached up to tug a handful of his hair.

“Do you _not_ have a brain-to-mouth filter?” Iwaizumi growled. Oikawa smacked his hand until he let go, whining and rubbing the sore spot.

“Can’t help it,” he said, sticking out his tongue as Iwaizumi shifted to look at him. “Iwa-chan has this effect on me. I just wanna eat you up all the time.”

“I’m not food.” Iwaizumi muttered, but his change in disposition wasn’t lost on Oikawa. Iwaizumi had relaxed against him like a languid cat, head resting on his shoulder. He smiled down at him fondly.

“Oh, my simple-minded Iwa-chan,” Oikawa cooed, kissing his forehead. Iwaizumi snorted, but Oikawa noted that Iwaizumi hadn’t protested on his straying hands. He didn’t dare point it out though. He pressed down more firmly, feeling along defined muscles cushioned by a thick sweater.

“If we get caught, _you_ are taking all the blame for this.”

Oikawa’s gaze quickly shot up to meet Iwaizumi’s but he wasn’t looking at him, tips of his ears burning red as he stared off to the side. Oikawa chuckled, knowing that that was the closest to a go signal he was ever going to get.

Taking advantage, he repositioned them so that Iwaizumi was lying on his back, spread across the leather seats. It took some adjusting to get comfortable, considering their respective heights. In the end, Iwaizumi had a leg swung over the seat, heel resting on the trunk, and Oikawa found himself kneeling between Iwaizumi’s spread legs; absolutely no reason to complain, given the amazing view.

He kissed the spot of skin at his abdomen bared by their jostling and smiled secretly when Iwaizumi shuddered at the act. His hands slowly slid the sweater upwards, sweeping a palm flat against his torso, easing him into skin-to-skin contact and chasing away the chill of the night air.

Iwaizumi hissed softly as Oikawa relieved him of the garment. He leaned over him, kissing as much exposed skin as he could before Iwaizumi began tugging at his top, whining softly. Oikawa relented and pulled away, allowing Iwaizumi to wrench off his hoodie before reuniting them with a kiss, the heat of their bodies gathering between them.

Iwaizumi’s arms came up to wrap around his shoulders and Oikawa brought his own arms around his middle, Iwaizumi’s body curving into a soft arc for him, pressing their cores together, prominent erections meeting in a soft grind. Iwaizumi’s tongue swiped over his lips and Oikawa sucked it into his mouth, opening his eyes to watch the fervent expressions flit across Iwaizumi’s face.

Each kiss was drawn out, long, intimate strokes of tongues, enough to finally get Iwaizumi worked up to unbutton his jeans on his own, tossing them to the floor while impatiently yanking on Oikawa’s belt loops. He smiled indulgently at him as he batted Iwaizumi’s hands away.

“Now, now, Iwa-chan,” he hushed, kissing his lover’s neck, “let me have this.”

Oikawa briefly lifted himself off of Iwaizumi to pluck the lube from the glove compartment and Iwaizumi used the chance to peel off his underwear in time for Oikawa’s return. He dropped down to the carpet, kneeling so that Iwaizumi’s cock was at eye-level, his hands squeezing out the oily liquid and warming it between his palms.

“Hello.” he mumbled dreamily as he nuzzled the base of Iwaizumi’s shaft. Above him, Iwaizumi sputtered and lifted himself up on his elbows.

“Did you just seriously say hello to my dick?”

“We haven’t seen each other in a long time!” Oikawa defended vehemently, and promptly silenced Iwaizumi’s laughter by affectionately kissing the tip, slipping a slicked finger into Iwaizumi’s waiting heat.

He broke off into a groan, falling back to lie on the seats as Oikawa pleasured him with his fingers. Oikawa missed this, the lazy kind of sex that only days like this could afford. He took his time as he spread him open, rubbing his prostate until he was quivering, sweat gluing his body to the leather. Oikawa added another finger, making up for the pain with a gentle tongue against the underside of his cock, watching precome bead at the slit and lapping at it, savoring Iwaizumi’s every reaction and the wonderfully familiar taste of him on his tongue.

Three fingers in and he swooped down to take Iwaizumi’s cock into his mouth, sliding a hand up his torso, humming as it arched beneath him; the cold that permeated into his skin quickly warmed by Oikawa’s touch. Iwaizumi shivered under the fluctuating temperature, reaching down to clasp Oikawa’s hand in his, meeting his curious gaze.

“Get inside me.”

Reluctantly, he let Iwaizumi slip out of his mouth with a wet _pop_. “Soon.”

“ _Now._ ” Iwaizumi snarled.

“Iwa—”

“Tooru, just _please_ fuck me, I need you.”

Oikawa pitied the man who could deny Iwaizumi anything when he said it with _that_ voice. He climbed back on the seat, hands making quick work of opening his jeans and pushing them down just enough to free his erection. He squeezed a hand between Iwaizumi’s knee and the seat and raised the leg up in the air, giving him enough space to maneuver and opening Iwaizumi up wider for him.

(Iwaizumi growled in warning when the jostling caused him to bump his head on the door but Oikawa was about to make up for that in a second).

When he finally pushed into Iwaizumi, it felt much like coming home, Iwaizumi’s passage clenching around him like a vice. He kissed the spots he knew to be sensitive, thrusting until he was pressed as far as he could possibly be.

“You’re so wonderful, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa gasped, breath hitching at the constricting embrace of Iwaizumi around his cock. “So perfect. You feel so good.”

The praises continued to spill from his mouth as he reveled in his lover’s heat. Iwaizumi squirmed, a lovely blush painting the tips of his ears.

“Stop that, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa smiled. Funny how the people who deserved praise the most were uncomfortable with being the recipient of it. He switched to soft kisses and slow strokes of his tongue, worshipping his lover with a language he was more comfortable with. Iwaizumi’s expression softened as Oikawa initiated a shallow, gentle thrust, stroking his sensitive points to ward off the initial sting of penetration.

Oikawa knelt up and watched the flush decorate even more of Iwaizumi’s body, dusting his shoulders and chest, culminating in the angry red of his erection, standing proud between his legs. Oikawa drove in just a little harder, watching it spurt a little bit of precome as it bumped against his stomach.

“Tooru, please hurry.” Iwaizumi gasped and Oikawa was wound up enough to comply, thrusting with full strength for the first time since they started. A shocked wail was his prize, accompanied by leather squeaking in protest as Iwaizumi writhed, scraped his fingertips against the seats in a bid for stability. He continued thrusting, building them both up until Iwaizumi no longer had enough of a grip on himself to be mindful of his volume, head whipping as his heels dug into Oikawa’s back.

Oikawa looked down at Iwaizumi, hovering at the cusp of orgasm, throat bared and back arched, the stars reflected in his eyes…

He had never looked more beautiful.

The end came not with an explosion of light, but more like a soft flare of an ember; not as sudden but no less intense. Oikawa’s eyes slid shut as he finished inside Iwaizumi, feeling that tight channel constrict around him as Iwaizumi followed suit. Iwaizumi’s voice cracked between a drawn out moan, hitching like a sob, before he sagged on the seats, completely boneless.

Oikawa leaned over and wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi, carefully warding off the heat of sex and reawakening fried-out nerves with slow, smooth strokes of his hands. He always loved this part the best: the slow wash of tender warmth and affection after the fires of passion.

“I love you, Iwa-chan.” he whispered as the constellations twinkled bright above them.

-

“Geez this sounds like some teenage American movie.” Hanamaki mumbles, an utterly disinterested look on his face. Iwaizumi wants to comment on that, considering that it’s _definitely_ Hanamaki’s erection poking his thigh, but Matsukawa beats him to it by eloquently reaching out and shoving Oikawa off the backrest, sending him tumbling to the floor with an undignified screech.

“Iwa-chan, Mattsun’s being mean to me!” Oikawa screams from the hidden depths of the space behind the armchair.

“You deserve it.”

“Mean!”

“What about you, Hajime? Any fantasies?” Matsukawa asks, ignoring the argument completely. “What do you want _us_ to do to you?”

Oikawa scrambles back up onto the seat and Iwaizumi feels three expectant stares boring into him. He opens his mouth. They all lean in.

“No.” Iwaizumi declares, to a chorus of disappointed groans. Oikawa nearly falls off the backrest again. “I’ve had enough for tonight, I’m going to sleep.”

He moves to stand but Hanamaki tightens his grip on his waist. Oikawa slides off his spot to help box Iwaizumi into the chair, hands planted on either side of him.

“Not even gonna help us with this, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi glares, freeing himself by pinching the backs of their hands. “You got yourselves into that mess, you can get yourselves out.”

“So cold, Hajime-kun.” Hanamaki calls out after him, but Iwaizumi just flips them off before turning the corner.

He walks into the bedroom and lays out a spare futon. He doesn’t like sleeping next to any of them after they’ve had too much to drink. Oikawa in particular always moved too much and Hanamaki drooled like a fountain. He yawns and snuggles deeper into the blankets, a light buzz filling his head.

He frowns slightly when he takes in the sounds of sex in the living room, but it’s easily silenced by the drowsiness that soon overtakes him.

-

Iwaizumi sauntered in the room, three-inch heels clicking sharply against the marble, a bottle of Koshu wine cradled gently in his hands. He was careful to take small strides to keep the swishing of his skirt to a minimum, but that didn’t stop the stares that crawled up his legs. He was headed for Matsukawa’s side of the table but a click of Oikawa’s tongue and an inward curve of his finger rerouted him to his right, between him and Hanamaki.

“Sir?” Iwaizumi prompted when Oikawa didn’t immediately relay any instructions.

“Yes, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa answered absently, looping his fingers around the loose tails of the ribbon tying his apron in place.

“Matsukawa-san asked for more wine.”

“I’m sure you can refill it from here, Iwa-chan. I know how flexible you can be after all.”

Iwaizumi flushed, self-consciously glancing around to see that Hanamaki and Matsukawa were avidly watching the exchange, matching grins on their faces. Reluctantly, he leaned over the table, bending at the waist just to refill Matsukawa’s glass.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em.” Hanamaki commented, lifting his skirt without warning. Given how short it was to begin with, Hanamaki didn’t have to do much. Iwaizumi nearly jumped when he felt a finger tracing the ring of muscle clenched tight around a plug. “Is he trained?”

“Oh, I made sure of that.” Oikawa punctuated the statement with a sharp slap on his ass, large hand clasping around a cheek and squeezing hard. Iwaizumi bit the inside of his mouth, but didn’t falter in his movements. Hanamaki whistled low in appreciation.

“Very nice,” Matsukawa purred. Iwaizumi could feel his eyes burning a path up his body, intrigued and lecherous. He ignored it in favor of making sure the wine he was pouring for him didn’t spill all over the table.

Oikawa’s pinky sneaked beneath the thick band of lace around his thighs. “Trust me, gentlemen, this is _nothing_.” and the sultry dip of Oikawa’s intonation dragged up memories of nights spent writhing against chains, biting his lip until it bled, hours of being dangled over the edge of relief only to be dragged back into excruciating torture. Iwaizumi swallowed thickly, feeling his resolve cracking. His knees trembled slightly and he prayed to every god in existence that Oikawa didn’t notice the slip-up.

Oikawa’s eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, slid over to him and Iwaizumi broke into cold sweat as his finger gave his garter a parting snap. “In fact…”

His smile curled dangerously as he reached inside his pocket, smoldering gaze watching Iwaizumi intently like he was a firework reaching the end of its fuse. “How about I hold a little demonstration?”

Iwaizumi immediately felt it when Oikawa turned the dial, the toy inside him buzzing to life, causing his knees to buckle. He quickly put the bottle on the table before it could fall from his twitching hands, bracing himself on his elbows. Oikawa frowned and thumbed the dial again.

“Did Matsukawa say he was done, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi’s head snapped up to see that Matsukawa’s glass was barely even half-full. He swallowed a curse and reached for the bottle, gritting his teeth when the vibrations shot up a notch.

“S-Sorry.” he muttered. He fought to keep from stuttering but he was visibly shaking now, the neck of the bottle clinking against the rim of the glass like the chimes of a bell. Matsukawa laughed as he reached out to run a knuckle along Iwaizumi’s face, the sharp bone digging into the soft give of his cheeks.

“So strict, Tooru.” Matsukawa murmured, an amused smile on his lips.

“You should’ve seen him when I first had him.”

Iwaizumi remembered those first days clearly. He’d fought then, struggled and kicked and bucked with every fiber of his being; goaded Oikawa into punishing him, searching for a reason to hate him and justify his own insubordination. He had refused to give in, but neither had Oikawa.

 _I’m not going to punish you, Iwa-chan, because this is not about inflicting pain._ he had said, with his fingers knotted in Iwaizumi’s hair after taming him for the first time. _It’s about letting you know who’s in control._

The onslaught of the memory forced a gasp out of him, the bottle in his hands colliding sharper against the glass. Oikawa’s eyes slid up to him, brows furrowed. He met his eyes and a hand rested low on his back, thumb rubbing in small circles; an act Iwaizumi recognized as reassurance.

Their gazes met briefly, enough for Iwaizumi to acknowledge the concern. Oikawa’s thumb stopped, but his hand remained a heavy weight on his back.

“That’s enough, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi nodded, but just as he was about to straighten up, Oikawa’s hand pushed him flat against the table, the cutlery clinking in protest at the disturbance. He let out a yelp when the act jostled the toy inside him, just when he had finally started to acclimate to the vibrations.

“Up on the table, Iwa-chan. You’re going to give them a show.”

Iwaizumi mumbled a soft _yes, sir_ and Oikawa let him up. He obeyed with shaking limbs, every sudden movement causing the toy inside him to rub more aggressively against his prostate. Three eyes remained on him as he carefully climbed the table, scooting until he was sitting right in the middle, presented like a dish to be shared. His entire face went red at the thought that maybe the metaphor wasn’t too far off after all.

“You know the rule, Iwa-chan?”

“I only get to come if you say so.” Iwaizumi recited, words that rolled off his tongue so often that he probably mouthed them in his sleep. He reached down to trap the flared base of the toy between two fingers and began to slowly pull it out of him.

“Very good,” Oikawa droned. All three pairs of eyes were magnetized to the apex of Iwaizumi’s legs as he pushed the toy back in with a slight wince. Iwaizumi wished he could say that he hated the way they looked at him, but the hardness hidden beneath his skirt, barely covered by a flimsy triangle of lace, was proof enough that he’d be lying.

A hand reached out and touched the stocking-clad skin of his leg, his heightened senses feeling every touch tenfold. He opened his eyes and followed the pale wrist to meet Hanamaki’s stare, coals burning behind his gaze. He shuddered and continued to work the toy inside himself, moaning between the obscene squelch of fluids and muffled vibrations.

Hanamaki lazily doodled patterns on the back of his knee, licking the prongs of his fork, flicking his tongue across the tips. Another finger looped under the straps crisscrossing his ankle, redirecting his line of sight to Matsukawa, whose lips lingered on the rim of his wineglass, devoting an odd amount of attention to the black heels caging Iwaizumi’s feet. They had barely even touched their food. Iwaizumi’s stomach filled with dread, wondering how long they planned to drag this out.

“You can do better than that, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa said, exaggerated boredom in his tone, and Iwaizumi doubled over when the click of the remote in his hands coincided with another increase in speed. He instinctively tried to bring his legs together but hands suddenly clamped at his ankles, holding tight.

“Think we should tie him down?” Matsukawa grunted when Iwaizumi involuntarily struggled, falling back against the table as he spasmed under the toy’s ministrations.

“Your bias is showing, Mattsun.” Oikawa teased but Iwaizumi heard the scrape of the chair as he stood, then the sound of fumbling somewhere far off. Curiosity burned at the back of his mind but it was soon erased by the toy speeding up, the crooked tip grazing all the right places inside him.

Oikawa reentered his field of vision soon after, and he trembled at the touch of his hand, tracing a path to his aching erection. He bit down a distressed noise when Oikawa suddenly slipped a cockring on him, buckling it tightly at the base. Hanamaki held a length of silken rope in one hand and looped it tight around his wrist before passing it under the table to Matsukawa, who tapped the table expectantly.

Iwaizumi obediently let go of the toy and laid his other palm flat on the table, keeping still as Matsukawa tied his wrists down, doing the same to his ankles, leaving him spread-eagled on the table.

Oikawa dusted off his hands and made a sweeping gesture toward his prone body. “He’s all yours.”

To Iwaizumi’s surprise, Oikawa walked back into his seat just as Matsukawa and Hanamaki climbed up the table, the wooden surface creaking under their combined weight. Hanamaki straddled his chest, limiting Iwaizumi’s view to the span of his hips. He unzipped his trousers, metal teeth coming apart to reveal a cock proudly standing to attention.

A sharp tug on the garter of his panties filled him in on what Matsukawa was up to, and his moan melted into a high whimper when Matsukawa pulled the toy out of him in one go, nudging aside the lace to free his cock.

“You make the sweetest expressions, Hajime-kun.” Hanamaki crooned. His thumb slipped into his mouth and hooked on his lower jaw, forcing it open, angling his head so that his cock brushed the edge of Iwaizumi’s jaw. Right now his nose caught more of the detergent he used, but beneath all that he could recognize the underlying smell of Hanamaki’s skin.

He shivered weakly as Matsukawa’s fingertip grazed the rim of his gaping hole. He could feel his muscles contract uselessly around nothing, far too stretched out to clench properly. Three fingers slid in with minimal resistance and immediately worked into him deeply, roughly, scraping against his prostate once or twice but never hitting it directly. Hanamaki gently cupped the back of his head and dragged him forward to take his cock. Simultaneously, Matsukawa’s fingers slipped out and something slick and hot began to press against Iwaizumi’s hole.

He tightened his grip on the table and shook helplessly as they both entered, two long dragging slides, the combined sensations bordering on overwhelming. For a searing moment, his world whittled down to them, the feel of their cocks pushing into him; Matsukawa spearing him open until their pelvises were flush, Hanamaki forcing him to take more of his cock, hitting the back of his throat.

He sucked Hanamaki’s cock in long, practiced motions, angling his head up and down Hanamaki’s shaft, mimicking Matsukawa’s pace, hollowing his cheeks and massaging the heavy weight of it with firm sweeps of his tongue.

“God, he’s good.” Hanamaki groaned, pleased.

“Isn’t he?” Oikawa purred, the pride in his voice causing something warm to bubble up in Iwaizumi’s chest. “He can take more than that, you two. Don’t be afraid to get rough.”

They took the permission and ran with it, thrusting their hips more enthusiastically into him. He laid limp in their grasps, letting them wrench his body into their own rhythms. Like children fighting over one toy, they competed for his attention, Matsukawa dragging him back into the beat of his thrusts while Hanamaki yanked tighter at his hair.

Matsukawa suddenly gyrated his hips and snapped into him. He bucked sharply under Hanamaki, moaning around his cock, Hanamaki echoing the sound more loudly.

“Whatever you’re doing, Issei,” Hanamaki muttered as his eyes rolled shut and his head fell back, thighs trembling, “keep doing it.”

Matsukawa complied, initiating a series of sharp, shallow thrusts that had Iwaizumi whimpering in response, soft and desperate. Hanamaki fucked his mouth more urgently now, the tremor in his thighs indicating how close he was. Iwaizumi gathered enough of himself to suck hard, eyes filling with tears when Hanamaki’s hands tightened in his hair.

He gasped harshly when Hanamaki finally retreated, bending down to kiss him. He groaned, low and guttural, and Iwaizumi wondered if he got off on tasting himself on Iwaizumi’s tongue.

He broke the kiss, the spittle connecting them both breaking midway and landing on Iwaizumi’s chin. “Open your mouth.”

He did so, sticking his tongue out for good measure, closing his eyes when Hanamaki finally came, feeling the viscid streaks land on his tongue and hit the back of his throat. He dutifully swallowed, resisting the urge to scowl at the taste of it. Hanamaki only lingered enough to tuck himself back in before hopping off the table, leaving Matsukawa who was still fucking into him, his untouched cock pathetically swinging with each thrust.

He took Hanamaki’s exit as a cue to speed up, now that he didn’t have to worry about anything but his own pleasure. Matsukawa shifted his hips a little and Iwaizumi screamed, writhing even as the bonds held tight. He brutally pounded against his sweet spot, and Iwaizumi let out gasping cries, the tears finally leaking from his eyes.

“You were made for this, Hajime, I bet you wanna come, don’t you?” Matsukawa goaded, gratifyingly cruel, voice and words heating up his already burning skin.

Iwaizumi’s head spun, filled with nothing but the sounds of skin colliding, the whisper of nails scraping against cloth, the steadily mounting heat at every passing second he was denied his orgasm. Matsukawa’s nails dug into his thighs as his hips jerked erratically. He tried to contain the screams, but Matsukawa ducked down and mouthed _let me hear you_ on his skin and his mouth fell open in a cry, head hitting the table when he felt the warm spill of Matsukawa inside him.

Matsukawa pulled out after without much preamble. Iwaizumi almost didn’t notice him loosening his restraints before leaving him on the table. He tried to breathe around the odd, sticky feeling at the back of his throat and pushed himself into a sitting position with wobbly limbs, pinpricks of sensation awakening in the tips of his fingers and toes as blood rushed back into them.

When he finally looked up, Oikawa smiled radiantly at his wrecked form from the head of the table, looking every bit as pristine and unruffled as he was at the start of dinner. He lifted a hand and curled his fingers inward.

Iwaizumi gingerly repositioned himself on his hands and knees and crawled his way towards Oikawa, wincing as he felt come drip out of him. Oikawa was merciful enough to open his arms to him as soon as he was within reach, steadying him as he climbed from the table and onto his lap. He straddled him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, the smooth texture of his trousers like a caress on his nylon-covered legs.

“So good, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa murmured, gently unbuckling the cockring, free hand sliding beneath his skirt. Iwaizumi writhed, desperate for even the slightest bit of stimulation, but Oikawa halted his movements with a finger on his chest.

He trailed his finger down the ruffles of his apron, artfully ignoring how Iwaizumi’s shaft twitched and leaked a wet spot on the ebony silk.

“Lift up your skirt, Iwa-chan, let me see you.”

Iwaizumi bit his lip as he obeyed, exposing himself to Oikawa’s blazing eyes. Immediately, he pushed him back onto the table and ducked his head under Iwaizumi’s skirt. He choked a sob as Oikawa bit his hip, sucked wet and lewd hickeys across his skin.

Iwaizumi’s mouth opened wide in a broken scream, shivering in his hold when his hand closed around his cock. Despite the dull ache thrumming in his gut, he remained still, adamantly denying himself the temptation of fucking into the loose curl of Oikawa’s fist. A hand cupped the swell of his ass, fingers prodding at the cleft until they found his entrance. Two fingers slithered right in, displacing Matsukawa’s come with a vulgar squelch.

“My dirty little Iwa-chan.” Oikawa moaned, a rasping sound that reverberated across Iwaizumi’s body. “You like it when they come inside your ass, don’t you?”

He was shuddering, panting, squirming in his lap as he thrust his fingers in deeper, swirling the traces of Matsukawa’s seed inside him. “Yes.” he whimpered, lust and clawing desperation loosening his tongue.

His vision was rapidly clouding over but he could see Oikawa’s lips as it split open in a proud smile, a prize for his naked honesty. He leaned in close, lips brushing his ear.

“Come for me, Iwa-chan.”

Oikawa didn’t even grant him much, just the barest tightening of his fingers, but it was all he needed, spasming as he spurted out his long-awaited release.

Iwaizumi sagged against Oikawa after he was wrung dry, content noises drifting from his mouth as Oikawa scratched at the spot just above his nape. He pulled away after another breath or two, dazed eyes taking in the come striping across Oikawa’s button up, some catching on his chin. Oikawa didn’t seem to mind the mess, drawing him closer to kiss the corner of his lips affectionately.

It was only when he looked up that he noticed Matsukawa and Hanamaki flanking Oikawa’s seat, leering down at him.

“You think he can take more than one, Tooru?” Matsukawa’s voice rumbled.

“Well,” Iwazumi tensed as the ominous clink of Oikawa’s belt buckle coming undone echoed across the room, “guess we’ll find out.”

-

Iwaizumi wakes with a gasp, sitting up in his futon. He looks around, wondering if he woke anyone with the noise only to find three silhouettes surrounding him; Oikawa straddling his thighs, Matsukawa and Hanamaki on either side of him.

“You were moaning up quite a storm in your sleep, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says, voice low and heavy. “What were you dreaming about?”

He sputters, but only has time to come up with a few senseless syllables before Matsukawa pins his shoulders on the futon, hovering close enough for Iwaizumi to smell the smoke in his breath.

“We heard you from the living room, you know.” Matsukawa exhales far too heavily than what is necessary, and Iwaizumi’s head spins, heart racing.

Hanamaki, stroking his hipbones from beneath his shirt, chimes in. “Come on, Hajime-kun, tell us.”

His mouth hangs slack, torn between telling them _don’t stop, oh for the love of god don’t stop_ or _fuck off and go back to bed, you sick perverts_ but Oikawa chooses that moment to cup a hand on the erection pressed against his shorts and he throws his head back with a soft cry. Matsukawa silences him by capturing his open mouth into a kiss, sucking on his tongue. Hanamaki joins in by pulling his shirt up and running a thumb along the curve of his pecs, nails catching on the hardened bud of a nipple.

“Honestly,” Oikawa tuts, amidst the sounds spilling from Iwaizumi’s lips, “why do we bother fantasizing when we’ve got the real thing?”

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all know who’s next.
> 
> come for the porn stay for the matsuhanas @ [plumtreeforest.tumblr.com](http://plumtreeforest.tumblr.com)


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